Zane had been searching with Talia and Yara for hours, going from house to house, but they had yet to find a snowblower. Instead, they kept coming across random gardening equipment such as rusty shovels, tangled hoses, and boxes of old Christmas decorations.

"This is hopeless," Talia muttered, picking up an old shovel.

Yara was rummaging through a pile of junk in the corner. "Is this it?" she asked, holding up a leaf blower.

Talia stared at it. "A leaf blower?"

"Why not?" Yara shrugged, inspecting the machine. "It blows air, right?"

Talia didn't seem convinced. "It's not a vacuum, Yara. You can't just—"

Before she could finish, Zane watched Yara flick the switch. The leaf blower roared to life, and Yara began to scream. She pointed it straight at the ceiling, and chaos erupted. Tools fell off shelves, bottles toppled over, and a stray rake nearly took out Talia.

"Turn it off!" Talia shouted, ducking as a wrench clattered off the shelf behind her.

Yara stumbled forward, fumbling with the garage door handle while snow swirled through the open gap behind them. The snow blasted to the side, curving around, but it still wasn't strong enough to clear everything.

"Is it working?" Talia called out.

"The wind isn't touching me!" Yara shouted back.

Zane spotted the wind physically curve around her body. She stumbled back into the garage of someone's house. He reached in and slapped the power switch off before Yara toppled over.

"That's a backup route," Zane explained.

Talia rummaged through the garage. She emerged holding a crooked Christmas sign. Without warning, she swung it toward Yara, hitting her squarely on the head.

"Ow!" Yara yelped, holding her arms over her head.

Talia rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "You should know that leaf blowers aren't for the snow," she said. "Wait, what's that?"

There it was—a snowblower, sitting proudly in the corner of the garage. The engine looked sturdy, and the gas tank was full. It was like finding a treasure chest in the middle of a snowstorm.

"Bingo!" Yara shouted.

Zane scratched his head, staring at the machine. "Well, I'm not sure how to use it," he admitted.

He'd seen his dad use it in the driveway during lighter snowfalls. This was a whole different type of beast. The snow wasn't just lightly dusting—it was a full-blown snowstorm.

Yara shrugged. "How hard could it be?" she said. "It's probably just some button or something."

Zane frowned, trying to think of anything useful he knew about snowblowers. He knew they were supposed to clear driveways and walkways, but he also remembered his dad complaining about how they got stuck in the snow.

"Wait," Zane said.

His eyes locked onto the bright red choke switch. He flipped it on, and as the machine sputtered to life, memories of old jobs flickered in his mind. He reached for the thick rope tethered to the machine, its engine roaring like an old school bus.

"Okay, let's try this!" Talia called out.

The two girls worked together, heaving the garage door open as far as it would. The cold air rushed in, but they didn't slow down.

Zane gripped the handles of the machine, his muscles tensing as he pushed it forward. The loud growl of the engine filled the air, and he squinted against the blowing snow.

The driveway was buried beneath a thick blanket of snow, but the surface was surprisingly level. The powder was deep, yet packed enough that the machine could roll forward.

"It worked!" Yara cheered, clapping her mittens together.

"Now, we have to figure out a way to load it in," Talia remarked.

Zane flipped the switch, and the machine sputtered to a halt. He turned to Talia and Yara, who were still eyeing the truck, trying to figure out the best way to load the snowblower. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't light either. The only options seemed to be the back seat or truck bed.

"Well, let's try this." Zane said, stepping to the snowblower.

He grabbed the back end while Yara and Talia each took a wheel. Together they lifted it, but the weight dragged at their arms immediately. His arms began to shake as they shuffled backward.

"Careful! Careful!" Yara hissed, her grip tightening on the wheel.

They managed to angle it just right, tilting it onto its side and hoisting it into the truck bed. For a moment, all three of them just stood, catching their breath, their arms feeling like jelly.

"Ugh, my arms are dead," Yara groaned, leaning against the truck. She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, collapsing with a dramatic sigh.

Zane wiped his forehead and glanced around. "Do you know where Jason is?"

He had to inform Jason that they found one snowblower that could help with clearing paths for the infirmary. He needed to round up someone to get gasoline if they still had some left around here.

"Last I heard, he was injured," Talia said.

Zane knew that if Jason had taken another dangerous job, he might already be fighting again. If he and Greyson were, it would be tiresome.

"Esme said he went to find Ashley with James and Jade," Yara rambled.

Jason had been smart to track down Ashley—Zane couldn't deny that. But not telling him got on his nerves. People trusted him to lead, but trust didn't magically solve problems. And there were plenty of problems.

"I'll step up while he's gone," Zane said.

"The real question is how long," Talia said.

The three of them paused in the middle of the snowy plaza. The air was heavy with the sound of scraping shovels against frozen ground. All three of them lifted the machine out, setting it down in the snow.

"Okay, this should work for all of it," Yara implied.

He started it up, pushing it near the church. It hurt, even pushing it down a small line that Talia was helping him push through the snow.

"You found one!" Esme exclaimed, speeding up beside him, her hand on her hip. "Let me try." She grasped the handles, but it wouldn't budge.

"It's from our starvation," Zane said. "We aren't exactly the strongest right now."

Esme sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Bella is so angry that Jason left," she said. "Oh, and there's more. Greyson's gone."

Zane felt relief wash over him. "One less problem to deal with."

"Esme, try this!" Yara wobbled over with the leaf blower.

Esme tilted her head as she grabbed the leaf blower. "How does it work?" she asked.

Without warning, she pressed the button, aiming the leaf blower directly at Zane.

The blast hit him square in the chest.

It wasn't cold.

It was wrong.

His lungs seized as if someone had punched him from the inside.

He tried to inhale, but the air scraped down his throat like sand.

The coughing wouldn't stop. Every breath came shorter and faster until it felt like he was only getting half the air he needed.

Esme's eyes widened. "Oh no, no, no!" she muttered, covering his mouth and tossing the leaf blower to the ground.

Without wasting a second, she grabbed him by the hood of his coat and started dragging him into the infirmary.

The coughing didn't let up. It felt like he was drowning on dry land, each gasp for air more desperate than the last. His vision blurred slightly, and he could hear Esme shouting over the sound of his ragged breathing.

"Emma!" Esme called. "Major healing!"

Heat rolled off his skin in waves. His face was burning while the rest of him shivered uncontrollably, like his body couldn't agree on anything.

When Emma touched his forehead, it felt like ice on fire.

His stomach lurched before he could warn anyone, and he leaned over the bucket as bike forced its way out.

"He's burning up," Emma muttered.

She unzipped his coat and placed her hand on his chest, feeling calmness in his body. His coughing began to ease, but his whole body felt like it had been through a barbecue—red and sweaty.

"I accidentally pointed a leaf blower at him," Esme panicked.

Emma shot her back a look of exhaustion. "A leaf blower? Really?"

"It was an accident!" Esme protested, throwing her hands up.

"This isn't good," Emma mumbled. "This is terrible."

"We've established that, Emma," Esme said.

"Esme, the high ranks are out of town. Zane's sick, and there's nobody to step up," Emma's voice broke. "Who can lead us?"

Zane opened his mouth to say something, but the words were caught in his throat as he felt Emma take her hand away. He glanced up, catching the worried looks on both girls' faces as they stared down at him.

Before he could process what was happening, Yara and Talia burst into the room, their voices overlapping with concern.

"Is he sick?" Yara asked.

Zane's stomach turned, a wave of nausea crashing over him. He barely had time before he was leaning over one of the buckets, vomiting violently. This was not how he'd imagined their snowblower hunt going. As he wiped his mouth, Emma's hand returned, resting on his chest.

"I'll do it," Esme said, slapping her hand on her chest.

"You'd cause more chaos," Emma mumbled, wiping an eye.

"Would not! I'd be able to help with all the trenches, children, food, and, uh, no," Esme declined.

Emma ran a hand over her face. "Hanna and I are stuck here, and Ilya isn't well. Nevaeh's gone somewhere; Cindy definitely won't, and neither would Connor," she said.

Zane felt his body shaking as Mark came down the steps. "Him," he mustered out.

Mark paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking around with a lost expression. It was hard to believe this was the same guy who had once been tangled up in the mess of Uden Academy.

"We need someone to be a leader," Yara said.

Esme chimed in, her arms crossed. "Zane's out, and the brothers are off the grid."

Zane didn't know if Mark could take on the job, but they were at a dead end. Nobody was left who could provide some leadership or control the overwhelming chaos.

"I'll try and figure it out," Mark gulped.

"If we don't have someone around here giving orders, everything will become worse," Emma implied, moving her hand to press against his throat.

Esme raised her hands like she was in the classroom. "I'll just keep speeding around and shovelling," she said.

Zane could only focus on the pain drilling through his chest. It scared him more than he wanted to admit—this wasn't just coughing. He was on death's door.

Yara nodded repeatedly, her words spilling out in a rush. "We'll just get through it. We have to."

"We just have to work together," Talia said.

Zane peered at them from the ground. None of them could guide them into this harshness, especially with Jason gone somewhere.

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as she pressed a hand to her gut. "Do you ever get this cold feeling?" she whispered.

Esme laughed, "It's cold everywhere, Emma."

"No, it's not that," Emma murmured. "It's like a gut feeling. It's almost a warning."

"What is going to be next? Flying cars?" Talia remarked.

"With all this danger already, it wouldn't be surprising if more arrived," Yara said.

The food looked like it had been pulled from a last-minute charity drive for the homeless. Cans were stacked haphazardly. Granola bars, still wrapped in crinkly plastic, littered the table alongside fat-free sweets, protein drinks, and oddly-coloured smoothies that rattled as they thawed.

Nevaeh's eyes went wide. "You brought all this?" she gasped.

River just gave a slight nod, shoulders hunched like he didn't want to be praised for it.

No time was wasted. People lunged at the pile like it was treasure—grabbing granola bars and canned soup, barely hiding their excitement over something so basic.

River held up a bottle. "I brought warm water too," he said awkwardly. "Though it froze solid on the way back."

"We have food!" someone cried.

Nevaeh knew what that meant. River's return wasn't just about their nourishment—it was the signal. It was go time. No one had directly defied Greyson's rules, except for Maverick.

She lounged in a creaky chair, peeling the wrapper off a chocolate chip granola bar. That's when Cindy bopped into the room, coat dusted with frost.

"Hey," Nevaeh said casually, taking a bite. "How's Simcoe?"

Cindy sat down across from her, eyes locking on the mountain of snacks. "Chaotic," she said plainly.

Nevaeh smirked and gestured. "You can take something."

Cindy grabbed a brownie and devoured it faster than a tiger. Tears rolled down her cheeks because they had successfully gotten something everyone wanted.

Nevaeh tilted her head. "I wanted to ask you something," she said. "Ever thought about creating a scandal?"

"Like murder?" Cindy asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Nevaeh sighed. "I'm tired of the usual—snowstorm, virus... nothing exciting anymore."

It was true. Her psychic ability had stopped getting her anywhere. People knew how it worked now. Thoughts were guarded. Minds welled off. All she picked up these days were echoed of missing parents, guilt, or wanting food. None of it nothing juicy.

"You want to create a scandal?" Cindy asked dryly. "If you plan on murdering someone, push them into the storm."

Nevaeh leaned back with a smirk. "Nah, not murder. I'm thinking along the lines of a cheating scandal."

"I don't think there are many relationships around here," Cindy said.

"You know how Scarlett leads guys on?" Nevaeh started. "It's that in a different way."

Nevaeh looked around the room, taking in the faces of those gathered. Some looked bored, others anxious, and a few seemed lost in their own world. She knew better than to underestimate anyone here. Everyone had secrets, and secrets could be scandals.

"I've heard my fair share of secrets or gossip, but I'm bored. I can't party anymore."

"Let me guess," Cindy said with crossed arms. "You want to stir up drama with the housewife."

Nevaeh spotted the uncertainty in Cindy's eyes. Mainly, she acted cold towards some people, especially ones she got annoyed with.

"And you're planning for a feud, right?" Cindy asked.

Nevaeh smirked and gave a slow nod. Just then, Mia stumbled over, her energy chaotic as always. She was unpredictable, and that's what made her so entertaining to watch. Despite being the same age, Mia had a way of making everything like a performance.

"We just want entertainment while people are gone," Mia grinned. "Jesus freak was planning to see Bella. That should definitely be entertaining. I'm surprised you haven't heard about her. Even if you were from Simcoe, Eden's pretty famous."

Nevaeh tried to search Mia's thoughts, hoping to uncover what she truly meant by those words, but nothing was exposed. It was like she knew not to reveal anything.

"Are you going to kiss him or just rattled Bella?" Cindy asked Nevaeh.

Nevaeh had never truly considered taking that approach. She always thought that route would cause the most drama, which would be cheating.

"Actually, I already rattled her," Cindy declared with a sharp tone, putting her elbow on the table.

The idea of having Bella rattled intrigued Nevaeh. Beneath Bella's facade of overprotection might be a more genuine self—one that is tired of playing the role of the golden girl who shunned friendships with anyone younger than her. This so-called golden girl persona masked an undeniable truth: she was actually a bitch.

"I'm just bopping around town," Cindy said.

Just then, Maverick burst into the dining hall like a storm, eyes darting straight for the food. Usually, he stayed near the entrance, where the sick were kept or brought to town.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the sick?" Nevaeh asked, raising an eyebrow.

Maverick shot her a glare, snagging a granola bar. "Oscar's watching them," he spat.

Nevaeh's lips curled into a smirk. Greyson wouldn't be happy if he knew Maverick was slacking, but for now, rules were rules—and she linked the feeling of being on the inside, waiting for the next big secret to be exposed.

"If you get in shit, it's not my fault," Nevaeh said.

Cindy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You can't just stir up drama when Jason's out of town," she said.

Nevaeh pouted. "Ugh, that's no fun. How about we take a trip? Something to shake things up."

"You want to join a mission?" Cindy asked.

Nevaeh nodded, craving something real—something beyond the endless cycle of small secrets, lies, and petty scandals. She was done with sitting back. Besides, Bella didn't like either of them much.

"You could always talk to Bella yourself," Cindy grumbled. "I'll just bop you there."

"Let's go," Nevaeh said.

Cindy grabbed her wrist as they bopped outside the door. "I won't be surprised if she screams at me," she said nonchalantly.

Nevaeh laughed and banged on the door. Bella opened it quickly, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a tight, impatient line. Puffy winter gear usually made everyone look like robbers.

"What?" she snapped, blocking the threshold.

"Mind if we crash your housewife haven for a sec?" Nevaeh said, pushing past her without waiting for an invitation.

Bella's sharp glare locked onto Cindy, shooting daggers. She knew the two were at each other's throats, but she didn't expect it to be this bad.

Crossing her arms, Bella's voice dripped with irritation. "What do you want?"

Nevaeh plopped down on the sofa, swinging her boots feet up onto the coffee table. "You must live quite a boring life, housewife," she said casually.

Bella's jaw tightened. "It's not boring," she snapped.

Nevaeh leaned back, arms behind her head. "Then tell me how your relationship is going."

Bella's eyes narrowed. "Why? Jealous too?"

The audacity of this housewife. She really thought Nevaeh would thinking she'd ever be jealous of her relationship. Everyone knew the dynamic—Bella played the helpless girl, while Jason was her knight in shining armour, always swooping to save the day.

Nevaeh chuckled, unfazed. "Jealous? Nope, Jason's cute, but not my type."

Another loud knock echoed through the room.

Bella's head snapped toward the door, then ran over and yanked it open.

Eden stood there with her hands clasped, eyes closed like she was praying. Behind her, Stick lingered in the snow, his posture tense, his eyes not meeting anyone's.

Bella glared.

Without waiting for an invitation, Eden stepped inside.

Eden's eyes fluttered open, and her lips parted in a quiet whisper. "God, forgive me," she murmured. "For any harsh words or actions I've directed toward this girl."

Her eyes snapped to Bella. Something unreadable shimmered beneath her calm expression.

"Did you know that Matthew has begun his journey toward redemption with the Lord?" she asked.

Nevaeh's glance flickered to Stick, who hadn't moved from the door.

Bella let out a sigh, arms folding across her chest. "What do you want, Eden? Last time you talked to you, my mind felt wacky."

Eden's mouth twisted into a smile, but her eyes stayed cold.

"You really think the Lord doesn't see through your act?" she sneered, stepping closer. "Using selfishness against someone you love? That's low. And here I thought you were supposed to be popular. Pathetic."

The smile fell. Her voice cracked like ice.

"I'm not being selfish," Bella said sharply. "And I'm not pathetic."

Eden closed her eyes. "You cannot grant every wish to those you claim cherish," she said calmly.

"I'm just doing what's safest," Bella shot back.

Nevaeh tried to pry into Eden mind for secrets, but only found silence.

"I'm doing what's safest," Bella hissed.

Eden exhaled a slow breath that felt too quiet.

"You're provoking the wrong person, housewife," she said acidly. "I thought you would have learned this by now."

Nevaeh stared with widened eyes. Eden was like a walking contradiction—one moment calm and almost serene, and the next, she could flip a switch and turn into someone who wouldn't be afraid to hit you with a bus.

Bella snapped, "God will be furious that you're belittling someone."

Eden's head tilted. "God knows you need fixing."

Bella took step back, hitting the sofa.

Eden's hand she reached beneath her coat, and for a brief second, Nevaeh thought she was pulling out a weapon, but no. It was just a small Bible. She held it like a threat.

Then she threw it.

The book hit Bella square in the face.

"People like you are selfish fools," Eden began. "You think you've got it all figured out, but God watches fools who live in delusion."

Nevaeh couldn't actually believe what she was hearing. This girl—Eden—was something else. Her religious behaviour was weird and came off as one of those die-hard believers who wouldn't take no for an answer.

"It's still safer," Bella insisted.

"Safety doesn't exist here if you haven't realized," Eden sneered. "And honestly, I don't think Teagan would be thrilled to see your behaviour. She'd be disappointed."

That last comment seemed to hit Bella like a punch to the gut. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she'd been slapped. She gritted her teeth, her hands clenched into fists at the girl, but Eden didn't flinch. She just sat there, unbothered, as if Bella's anger was nothing more than background noise.

"Go to hell!" Bella yelled.

Eden slowly stood from the sofa. She stepped closer to Bella until they were face-to-face. This wasn't just a petty argument—it was worse than the conflict Bella has with Cindy. This felt personal, raw, and dangerous.

Nevaeh watched a dark look form in Eden's eyes. It was unsettling, especially when Eden started reciting random Bible verses. Nevaeh's gaze flickered to Bella's body, who began to slowly fall to her knees, looking around slowly.

"God will not cleanse you until you change," Eden continued, towering above Bella. "I'll come back in a couple of days. You must change. If you don't, you'll experience my wrath."

She turned to the door, Stick moving slowly to follow. Just as she reached the handle, she paused.

Her face softened, and that innocent smile returned. It was almost jarring, the way it didn't match the coldness in her eyes.

"I assume we can keep this between us," she said lightly. "If others find out, that's fine. But you should be careful. The crackheads still wander this place."

Then they were gone. The door slammed behind them.

Eden wasn't innocent. According to Mia, she was a delinquent. She wasn't on the same level as Bryce or Mia, but Eden was something dark and dangerous.

Cindy and Nevaeh looked at Bella, frozen on the floor. Her eyes darted around the room, unfocused, and her arm didn't twitch when Nevaeh poked it.

"People say it's like numbing," Cindy said.

"Let's go find Jason," Nevaeh stated, standing.

Bella's wide, panicked eyes met Nevaeh's, who just waved a hand. Cindy grabbed her wrist, and they bopped away in a hallway.

The hallway was darker than Nevaeh remembered.

She squinted, adjusting go the shadows. Once-familiar hotel walls now loomed like strangers. The frozen wallpaper and dead lightbulbs made everything feel warped.

Beside her, Cindy muttered something under her breath.

"Paradise," she said.

Their boots grew loud across the carpet as they moved toward the blue and white corridor.

Then they stopped.

Nevaeh's breath caught before she even realized why.

At the far end of the hall, a figure stood perfectly still—grinning.

His silhouette leaned unnaturally to one side, head tilted. Every movement seemed wrong.

Cindy froze beside her, and Nevaeh did the same. Neither a word. Her heart hammered, but her mind spin with disbelief and recognition.

Then the figure smile widened. Luke Orr.

He was supposed to be dead. Supposed to. But here he was. Alive or something like it.

"Well, if it isn't you," he snarled. "Been awhile."

"You're supposed to be dead," Cindy spat, her hands shaking.

Luke let out a devious laugh with a grin, his noodle arm still there when it shouldn't be.

"You were responsible for my arm loss," he spat.

"And you killed my sister," Cindy growled.

"Now, I get a chance to kill both of you now," Luke snarled.

It felt like the middle of the night, even though it had already been pitch black for days. Greyson didn't bother checking the time—he just assumed. Living like this still felt strange, and he couldn't help but smirk. Jason would have to deal with Ashley's mess now, and Greyson was more than happy to let him.

He took a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand. His mind wandered to Scarlett. She wanted to talk, and he knew it. It wasn't hard to guess. The way she looked at him—it was all too familiar.

It reminded him of years ago, back in seventh grade, before The Bubble was created. Back then, it wasn't about food or water or usual need. It was something deeper, something he didn't quite understand.

He stood abruptly, turned on his heel, and set the glass down. The hallway stretched before him, lined with too many doors, all blurring together. His bedroom was only a couple of doors down, but the sheer number of rooms in the house—upstairs, downstairs, everywhere—still felt surreal.

He knocked on the door.

After a brief pause, it creaked open and Scarlett appeared. She wore a warm long-sleeved shirt and dark leggings. She stepped aside without a word to let him in, closing the door behind him.

"You never answered my question," Scarlett said. "David was about to kill me, and you reflected the bullet back him."

Greyson blinked. "Well, it wasn't just you. I probably would have died."

Scarlett crossed her arms, walking slowly toward the window. "No. The gun was aimed at me. You were just crowd support," she said. "Things between us changed after reform camp. It wasn't just hooking up. It was feelings, Greyson. Real ones."

"We both wanted it," Greyson said.

"Is that all it had been? We never talked about it despite people knowing about it," Scarlett sounded frustrated.

Greyson didn't say anything. His palms grew damp, and he rubbed them against his jeans.

They didn't talk about their relationship much since that happened.

"People call me a bitch or a slut all the time," she began. "It's true. But what we have? It's different. We've danced around those words, maybe out of confusion or because we're just wicked."

She leaned in closer until he could feel the warmth of her breath.

"I'm going to tell you something and then ask a question."

Scarlett's hands cupped his cheeks.

"Greyson, I'm in love with you. Are you in love with me? It's either yes or no."

He felt completely overwhelmed by the question. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew she wouldn't let him. It was one of those rare, vulnerable moments they didn't often share.

"Well..." he started.

He knew the answer, but putting it into words felt impossible. Ever since they'd met and grown closer, he'd known what to say. She pulled her hands away from his cheeks and walked to the door. She opened it but just stared at him.

"Come back when you've found your answer," Scarlett said.

He slipped out of the door as she shut it behind him. It made him groan that he couldn't find the right words to say. He bit his pinky nail, walking downstairs with the lights dim. The house was quiet until he spotted Tumbles at the kitchen table, munching on a bag of potato chips.

"Why do you look so mad?" she asked through a loud crunch of potato child.

Greyson grabbed a glass and filled it with water, ignoring her question. He hadn't planned on bringing Tumbles along in the first place—it was because of Maverick's behaviour.

"I'm not," he snapped.

Tumbles flipped through an old, glossy magazine. It featured the women who used to live here. The pages were filled with bold colours and dramatic poses, none of which cared about.

"I found River," Tumbles said, tapping the glossy page with her finger.

Greyson came over with his water. He didn't care about some boy, but he had his mind frazzled by Scarlett's words. He glanced down at the magazine, unimpressed. The model on the page was dressed in tacky clothing.

"Look!" Tumbles pointed at a front-page story.

"I don't care about fashion," Greyson said.

He left the dining room and headed upstairs. Scarlett's words still echoed in his mind. He pressed his lips together, lost in thought.

Standing by the large window in his room, he watched the snow. Everyone was dealing with the storm, but that's not what bothered him. It was the words he needed to say to Scarlett. Why does love have to be difficult to say?

He sat on the edge of his bed, chewing his pinky nail. Scarlett wouldn't vanish tomorrow, but it was her birthday.

He stared out at the endless snow, wondering if it would ever stop. He narrowed his eyes and took his pinky away from his mouth. He wanted what they had done years ago, but that wouldn't happen until he found those confusing words.

Scarlett finally told Greyson that she loves him, and Eden doesn't seem so innocent.

And Luke's a follower, which I'm sure you are so happy about!

Do you think Bella is in danger due to Eden's confrontation?
-Lexi